Cut and Run (Lucy Kincaid #16) - Allison Brennan Page 0,32

regularly when he wasn’t on the oil rig, but he could be out weeks at a time. Rogan had included his schedule. He was working and wouldn’t be back for another ten days. For the last year, he’d worked thirty days on, two weeks off, and he made very good money.

No apparent threat from the ex-husband—and no motions for restraining orders or anything like it against him or anyone else.

The lights were out, even the porch light, except for a small glow, which was likely a night-light in one of the interior rooms. Max didn’t want to sit out here all night watching the house. Though sleep often eluded her, she needed a few hours or she would miss something tomorrow. She needed a sharp mind for her interview with Stanley Grant.

Max didn’t want to scare Marie, but she couldn’t just walk away—this request was too odd. The sister could be sleeping. It was late by most people’s standards. Instead of knocking on the door, Max called the cell phone number Oliver Jones had given her.

The call went immediately to voice mail.

“You’ve reached Marie Richards. I’m unavailable, please leave a message and I’ll call you back. Bye!”

Max left a brief message: “This is Maxine Revere. I’m calling at the request of your brother. Please call me at this number any time day or night.”

She ended the call. Maybe Marie turned off her phone. Two small boys, needed her sleep. Had to work tomorrow.

Yet.

Jones had only given her Marie’s cell phone number. She may or may not have a landline. Max did a quick search and found a number at this address. She called.

It rang four times, then the answering machine kicked in. Max left the same message.

Was the phone silenced or was she not home?

She had two kids in school—where would she be so late on a school night?

Max was about to leave her vehicle, but a car turned down the street, driving slowly. She lay down across the front seats—the last thing she needed was a nosy neighbor calling the police on her. She looked up as the car passed—a dark sedan rolled by, couldn’t be going more than twenty miles an hour. Not a police car. Cautiously, she watched as the car turned right on the next street. She waited a beat, then got out of her rental car.

Max had parked two houses down from Marie Richards, across the street, where she could see the house but wouldn’t look like she was spying. She walked down Marie’s long driveway, which led to a detached two-car garage. Max listened for any noise, maybe a dog, something to tell her someone was home. She didn’t see signs of a security system, but she wasn’t planning on breaking in.

The garage had a door. She tried the knob. Locked. She knew how to pick a lock but hesitated. She didn’t really have a good reason to go inside, she just wanted to see if there was a car.

An unlocked gate connected the corner of the garage to the house. She opened it and walked around to the side and peered in the solitary window.

No car. In fact, the garage was so packed with boxes, tools, bikes, and toys that Max didn’t think any vehicle would fit.

Max walked toward the house. Instead of going back through the gate, she looked in the closest window. A door led to a laundry room. The blinds were only partly closed. A faint light was coming from above the kitchen stove on the other side of the laundry room, but she couldn’t make out much of anything in the near-dark.

She needed to get inside. If Marie Richards really was in danger, she could have left in a hurry—or left against her will.

Her car is gone. Would anyone who might do her harm take her car?

If they didn’t want anyone to know she was in trouble. Or grabbed her on the road.

Max slipped on thin leather gloves and was about to pick the lock when she stopped. Considered.

Max rarely hesitated when entering an empty house. She’d done her fair share of sneaking around, and misdemeanors didn’t much bother her. She could generally talk her way out of it on the rare occasions she was caught. But ever since she’d started seeing Ryan, she thought twice about intentionally breaking the law. It seemed odd to her, because she’d dated cops and FBI agents before and not once had her relationship stopped her from pursuing the truth, even when she